Summer Heat

I was 16, and a busboy at The Harvest Restaurant and Bakery, a restaurant promoting whole foods and conscientious living.  I was finishing up a day shift on a hot summer day.  It must have been a weekend, because I remember it being quite busy that day.


I took my last break before finishing my shift, and walked to the alley behind the restaurant, out by the trashcans.  I needed a bit of fresh air before finishing the lunch rush.  The alley was shared with a club called Shotgun Willies, a strip club.


After just a few minutes, I heard some rustling, and a woman appeared out of nowhere.  She looked devastated.  The massacre under her eyes was smeared, and she stumbled around with a shocked and dazed expression on her face, kicking over a few trashcans a white buckets once full of mayonnaise or vinegar.  She was young, with short brown hair.


I watched her stumble pass, until another followed her, an older man.  He had salt and pepper hair and mustache.  His flaccid dick hung out in the open, and as he saw me tucked it away and zipped back up.  You gotta help me brother, he said.


Panicked, I turned around, and went back in to finish my shift.  It took me a few minutes – longer than it should have – to realize the woman was just raped.  I still regret that I did nothing to help her.


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